


Downbeats

by HamstersAndLunchboxes



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: AK, B. Snow, F/F, I think I say 'downbeat' like once tho, Kendrick really out here looking out for us Bechloe fans, Poor guy got shut down by AK, S/O to AK for being the realest, Sidenote: the title has nothing to do with the story, Theo isn't really in it, This one's for our Bechloe Captains, and Rebel fucking Wilson, it just sounded cool and artistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamstersAndLunchboxes/pseuds/HamstersAndLunchboxes
Summary: Turtle Guy (and Chloe) really like to watch Beca at work.Chloe can tell that Turtle Guy likes Beca, too.Chloe, however, does not like Turtle Guy.(But she definitely likes Beca.)





	Downbeats

**Author's Note:**

> So, I threw this over on Tumblr on my single, newbie blog at theocarchitect (I have no idea how to hyperlink that, let me live). I figured I'd throw it to my fellow Bechloe shippers. First Bechloe fic (ish, I've been playing with this pairing [semi-illegally since I have a lotta other fics]) AND oneshot in general, so go easy. Don't let my vocal chords get torn out by wolves if someone doesn't like it. Enjoy!

A tragedy. A shock. A complete disaster was at hand in DJ Khaled’s apartment. A travesty, something unspeakable. Chloe Beale, the epitome of human sunshine, was  _ bored _ . Of course, there wasn’t really a reason she should have been bored. She was, after all, in  _ DJ freaking Khaled’s _ suite in  _ Spain _ , surrounded by gorgeous people, some that she’d for sure seen on the red carpet at the Grammy’s. Flo was pestering Khaled’s juice-ologist for recipes for her juice truck, Aubrey and Legacy were talking about something that seemed rather important, CR was off dancing somewhere, Amy had disappeared, Jessica and Ashley were doing…whatever Jessica and Ashley did, and Beca still hadn’t come back from wherever Teddy…Tommy…Turtle Guy, whatever, had taken her.

And so Chloe was bored. She sat on the couch, alone, her drink forgotten. Guys and girls alike had tried to get her to dance, but she’d turned them down. She didn’t want to  _ dance _ , she wanted to gush with Beca about how they were in  _ DJ freaking Khaled’s _ suite in  _ Spain _ . But, of course, Beca was nowhere in sight. 

When Chloe saw Turtle Guy (Travis? Trevor?) slip out from behind the partition  _ without _ Beca in tow, she narrowed her eyes. He was on the phone, and given the volume in the room, there was no way she could have heard what he was saying, but that didn’t matter. ( _ He _ didn’t matter, but Chloe wasn’t going to say that aloud. Who did he think he was anyway? Flirting with Beca effin’ Mitchell? So what he was some hotshot with DJ Khaled and cute accent and he wasn’t bad to look at. That did  _ not _ mean he was good enough for her best friend.) Dropping her solo cup into the nearest trash can, Chloe slunk over to the curtain. When no one was looking, she slipped inside.

Chloe wasn’t prepared for the scene before her.

Beca sat, facing away from her, bumping her head along to some unknown beat Chloe couldn’t hear. She was singing softly though, and Chloe knew she was meshing her vocals seamlessly and effortlessly into something that was sure to be eargasmic. Her eyes were closed as she hummed softly into the microphone (which had to cost the equivalent to at least a month’s rent for their small apartment), completely unaware to Chloe’s presence. 

Seeing Beca sitting there, lost in her own little world, looking out over the view of the city, Chloe was struck with a heavy feeling in her chest that she wasn’t quite sure how to identify. It was  _ dangerously _ similar to the one she felt when she saw Chicago, but it held more weight. When she saw Chicago, she felt a physical attraction, but when she saw Beca, it was always… _ more _ than that. Because while, yeah, Beca was an absolute knockout, it was always more with her.  It hit Chloe harder, sort of like a semi-truck. 

When she saw Beca mixing, unconcerned with whatever was happening around her (who was she kidding, when Chloe saw Beca  _ whenever _ ), Chloe felt this irreplaceable sense of harmony, like all was right in that moment. It was the same feeling she felt when she had been a Bella and when the girls had sleepovers or pillow fights in the living room. Or when she saw her family in Portland after a long few months away at Barden. Or when she visited her brother in Miami and his kids would always scream for ‘Auntie Chlo’.

The realization knocked the wind out of Chloe’s lungs. When Chloe saw Beca, she saw  _ home _ . 

In Beca’s smirk, in her earspikes, in her tattoos. In her eyeliner and her oversized headphones. In their apartment, when Beca walked around, half asleep with her hair thrown up into a messy bun, wearing nothing but Chloe’s old Barden sweatshirt and a pair of compression shorts. In the way Beca shrunk away from all physical contact,  _ except _ when it came from her. 

There, in that moment, in DJ Khaled’s apartment, in  _ freaking Spain _ , Chloe wasn’t sure how she hadn’t realized it sooner. Sure, she’d practically told Beca she wanted to experiment with her in college back on the retreat their senior year (and Beca had called her weird), and she’d seen her naked when Beca was an abrasive and crass freshman (She was slightly less abrasive and crass now), but when Beca had shot her a weird look when Chloe had commented on how all the new Bellas probably had boyfriends, it just made  _ sense _ . Chloe didn’t want a boyfriend. Chloe wanted Beca. And she was pretty sure the little DJ felt the same way (she was just exceedingly bad with words…and emotions…and people at all ever.)  

The realization didn’t shock or scare Chloe. Instead, it sent a bubbling warmth flowing through her chest, like someone had lit a small flame and kept it burning. She was smiling so hard, it sort of hurt, but Chloe couldn’t find it in herself to care or even make a peep. As much as she  _ wanted _ to spin Beca around in the chair and kiss her just to convey what she was feeling (despite the potential consequences), Chloe wasn’t willing to break the small brunette’s concentration for anything. 

She was still nodding along, but she’d gone quiet, fiddling with dials and pressing keys at such a speed, Chloe could barely keep up. Off to the side, a pair of headphones caught Chloe’s eye and she grabbed them, careful not to distract Beca. She slipped them on and Chloe’s breath caught. The mix that Beca was working on was…it was damn near magical.

Beca’s voice slipped in and out of the headset into Chloe’s ears, weaving together in enchanting melodies. She harmonized with herself offhand, like it was no big deal, spinning a dial and increasing the volume of the downbeat ever so slightly, but it made a world of difference. Chloe had always loved Beca’s voice. It was what drew the redhead to the obstinate freshman in the campus showers in the first place. But this was something differently entirely. Beca’s vocals had come a long way since then. Her range had increased and her voice shook less, telltale signs that she was more confident in herself than she had been years ago. 

The melody that Chloe was listening to was original and beautiful and  _ amazing _ and Chloe slipped off the headset, ready to jump Beca’s bones and finally admit to herself (and to Beca), that she was in love with her, ramifications be damned…but the serenity didn’t last.

A crash, a scream, and then several screams drew Chloe’s attention to the main room where the party was going on. Except, now it was less of a party, and more of an action sequence from a low budget movie. The curtains Aubrey and Emily had been standing next to were on fire, the apiary had fallen and cracked open, bees swarming, and then at the crash of glass, Chloe saw Emily standing, mortified, near a broken window. It looked like something pulled out of a comedy film, and Chloe would have laughed if it hadn’t been so horrifying. Of course, it got worse, as the elevation slid open, revealing DJ Khaled himself, Evermoist, and Turtle Guy (Tucker? Tito? She really wasn’t sure [Chloe tuned out all conversation when the Bellas talked about him]).

And Beca, in all her glory, was still completely unaware, swiping bees out of her face, tongue stuck between her teeth in concentration. She was aca-adorable, and despite the pure chaos around her, Beca made Chloe smile.

Chloe sighed. She should have known the peace wouldn’t last. She should have told Beca when she had the chance, but she didn’t regret it. She liked watching Beca work. Besides, they had the whole rest of the tour, in  _ Europe _ , no less. She was certain one of the stops was in Paris, the City of Love (*wink wink, nudge nudge*). Point being, she could wait. They’d waited for five years. What was another day or two in the face of mortal embarrassment from wrecking DJ Khaled’s apartment…right? 


End file.
